Lifeblood
by Rhodi Wolffe
Summary: A story about dogs. Kyra leads a normal life in a normal pack, but when her peace is disturbed, it takes the support of an outsider to realize her potential. Rated T for occasional profanity and dark themes in later chapters.
1. Prologue

**This is a story about dogs, but might not be a good fit for the Survivors fandom. If you know of a place that's better for it, please let me know.**

* * *

Just before the sun began to color the sky one morning in late spring, a bitch with a salt-and-pepper coat woke. She extracted herself from her yellow mate's hug and slipped out of her den.

Her enormous lieutenant was waiting for her in the center of the clearing.

"Do you think it would be safe to send a hunting party to the river, Sterling?" the black-and-tan mastiff asked.

Sterling cocked her head and considered this. "With all the coyote activity, you mean?"

"I guess that's a no."

"It could be a yes if you sent a couple soldiers to escort three huntsdogs. You know as well as I do, Mulberry, that coyotes won't reckon with a group that has burly dogs in it."

Mulberry's eyes brightened. "I could go."

"Going to catch fish?"

"I want to spend time watching every huntsdog. Little Kyra will need a master before we know it."

The leader cut her eyes over to the whelping den where Mulberry's mate had given birth in mid-April. Sterling observed all pups carefully, every day. She knew full well which master she wanted to give Kyra to. Looking back at Mulberry, she only nodded. Maybe he'd have some good insight, too. She'd never known a dog to be so doting over a pup. He wouldn't pick just anyone.

Mulberry went about his business as Sterling perched upon the lip of her cave to watch the pack's activity. By the time the sun had climbed over the treeline, there was scarcely a huntsdog to be seen in the settlement.

Some dogs traveled to new packs when they came of mating age, but the ones who stayed to serve the natal pack grew into talented masters. These masters were responsible for the training of the pack's youth and for leading daily expeditions into the territory. Though rival packs were necessary for genetic diversity, it was important to keep them from encroaching.

Sterling's mate, Saffron, was doing her job despite Kyra and the other pups getting in the way. The leader got up to step in, for Saffron didn't have it in her to be firm.

But the pups had moved on already. It was best, Sterling decided, to let them learn this lesson from a more short-tempered packmate, and she sat back down.

* * *

**From here on out, Kyra will be the point of view. Thank you for visiting her pack.**


	2. Chapter One

**Mid-July:**

* * *

Kyra tugged her mother's fur, whining. "I want to go _outside_."

"Please, boo," Rose huffed. "Whining's not a good look for a three-moon-old."

Kyra stopped, but she was still upset. _Is she going to take forever?_

The sun beat mercilessly down on the forest, and a stuffy underground den was no better. Rose was trying to slick back the frizz that the humidity was wreaking on her pelt. Kyra watched, panting as dramatically as she could.

Rose raised her head and stared at the puppy. "You won't give me any peace, will you?"

"No, Mommy." Kyra gave her mother's plumy tail one last tug. "I'm thirsty _right now_. I'm going to dehydrate and _die_."

They left the den and set off for the stream that still ran cool and swift, defying the sun. As they ducked into the undergrowth, Kyra looked back and saw Sterling watching.

Though the pack leader was not terribly big, Sterling was very scary to Kyra. Her eyes were so black that her pupils could not be seen; her long, fluffy beard obscured the corners of her mouth so it looked like a stern line. And she was always watching.

_I can't wait for my dad to be the leader, _Kyra thought as she skipped. _He'll be the best of them all._

At the stream, Kyra dipped her muzzle and drank. Rose sat and kept trying to smooth her fur.

Kyra looked up and down the bank, sniffing. The air near water was always laden with scent. She could smell prey and other dogs. Most dog scents were stale with fresher ones overlaying. Kyra splashed a paw into the water, sending droplets flying.

Kyra's friend, a white puppy called Brigitte, and her mother arrived to drink. Kyra took a last few laps before Brigitte could finish and attack. She smacked the water. Drops flew onto Brigitte's coat.

Brigitte, being much smaller, had to give the water a mighty slap to equal Kyra's. She bared tiny teeth, but her eyes glittered with mirth.

Shaking water from her large ears, Kyra dropped into a bow. "Wanna race to those ferns" — she tossed her head at a clump behind Rose — "and back?"

Brigitte regarded Kyra with suspicion, pinning her ears flat against her head. "You know you'll win. That's not fair."

The black-and-tan puppy considered this. "I'll give you a head start," she decided. "I'll count to three. Real slow!"

Brigitte released her tongue in a loll. "Well, in that case—" She darted away at once.

Kyra counted, perhaps a little faster than she promised, before following. But she slowed when she saw that Brigitte didn't stop after reaching the ferns. She looked over her shoulder at their mothers before carrying on. Despite, or perhaps because she saw Rose turn her head in their direction, her fur prickled with apprehension.

Brigitte was walking in the undergrowth, inspecting everything she found. "Do you think we'll find any prey?"

"I guess." _The forest is only teeming with it. _"I don't think we should be out of a grown-up's sight."

Her friend turned to look at Kyra with surprised blue eyes. "I thought you_ liked_ exploring."

"I do." Kyra tucked her plumy tail between her legs. "I don't like getting in trouble, though. I think we should go back before they decide we can't go outside anymore."

"They can't stop us for long," Brigitte pointed out. "We'll be training under masters before the hot moons are out."

Kyra grunted. She was sniffing around now too. Maybe if they found something worthwhile, it would soften the blow of their mothers' wrath. Brigitte was right about prey to be sure. She picked up the scent of squirrel at the foot of the tree she stood under. Surely Rose, a huntsdog, would appreciate a lead like this.

Brigitte noticed her wagging tail and gave a satisfied snort.

They had just begun trotting back when a heady, doglike scent assaulted Kyra's senses. _Doggish but not dog? _Kyra stopped in her tracks.

It grew stronger.

The pups were rooted to the spot with a mix of potent fear and curiosity. They didn't know where to go. Kyra was stirred to action when the rustling of the vegetation grew louder and faster. _Not a dog! Not even one of whatever it is!_

Two tawny heads popped out of the undergrowth, sporting huge ears and baleful yellow eyes. Kyra's knees buckled as she realized that hesitating might have cost her and Brigitte their lives. _They must be coyotes!_ Kyra knew coyotes from the territorial tensions that chilled her father's conversations.

Though not as big as she'd thought they would be, the coyotes gaped, as they sometimes do out of aggression. Their wiry bodies slinked forth.

Brigitte released a choked whimper of terror, and feeling her quake, a new rage awakened in Kyra. This feeling was the territoriality that boils the blood of all dogs. _I won't go down without a good fight. _She bristled and gaped back.

The dog — as in a male canid — looked startled.

Kyra wanted to tell Brigitte to go, that she'd bought her some time, but she didn't get a chance. With a mighty crash of plants and a deafening snarl, Rose came to the rescue. Brigitte dived under her belly, but Kyra stayed put. She wanted to show her mother that she could intimidate with the best of them.

"Adam," Rose said, her growl full of venom.

"Rose." Adam relaxed his hackles. "Is this your daughter?"

"Cut the shit," Rose snapped back. "You're on dog land."

"We weren't stealing anything."

"Just like how I'm a cat."

The young bitch coyote bared her teeth at Rose. "You say that as if dogs don't have a monopoly on the whole park. What do _you_ need it for, anyway? Dogs don't belong in the forest. Why not just run back to the humans when the going gets tough?"

Rose bushed her hackles out so she was twice her normal size.

"Sylvia," Adam warned. He turned back to Rose. "You'll have to excuse my daughter. She's young and impetuous. She has yet to learn to pick her battles. Isn't that right?" he added, fixing Sylvia with a hard stare. Sylvia stepped back, albeit reluctantly.

"She'll learn if she knows what's good for her. In the meantime, you'll get out of here before our soldiers rip you into ribbons."

"I thank you for your mercy." Adam lowered his eyes. He nudged a bitterly disappointed Sylvia along, but before making his retreat, he looked over his shoulder. "Oh, we'll leave. We'll get by — because it's warm. But know this: when it gets cold, my pack won't be able to live off our little patch on the other side of the Skyline. You'll be over here with plenty to eat and territory to spare. If I was Sterling, I'd cut my losses on those hills that no one hunts in. I'm no politician, though, so what do I know?"

His gaze fell on the stiff-legged Kyra, and he hurried away, alarm rippling through his guard hairs.

Rose relaxed. Brigitte came to stand between her forelegs. "We didn't realize how far we'd come," she began.

"Your mother is beside herself with worry," Rose interrupted. "I hope you've learned some sense from this. I think a near-death experience was punishment enough. Am I correct?"

"Oh, yes," said Brigitte in a small voice.

Kyra said nothing, turning the event over in her mind.

* * *

Upon their return home, the story got circulated and nerves got frayed. Kyra felt more and more confused as she listened to the dogs.

"Thieves!"

"Scoundrels!"

"Curs!"

And a slew of bad words.

_They didn't sound like thieves to me,_ she reflected. _They sounded plain hungry. _She didn't know who to believe! She wanted to go on listening to her pack, but now she was consumed with a strange new feeling; she knew not what.

She was in her nest with her mother later that night. Rose massaged her daughter with long strokes of her tongue.

"Mommy, do we really have territory that we don't use?"

Rose hesitated before sighing. "We have a lot of land that we need to protect."

_That's not what I asked. _"Why do the coyotes want it?"

"It's a grown-up matter, Kyra. You're too young to be thinking of such things," Rose said, firmer this time. "Don't worry about _them_. What matters is _us_."

Kyra was hurt. Why couldn't she think about it? Now she had another new feeling she'd never had before. It sat in her tummy and was like a huge, cold rock. For some reason, her own mother was hiding something from her. Maybe the whole pack was hiding something from her.

She thought again of the coyotes, but this time, as they'd described themselves. Her eyes stung. It seemed that sleep would never come, and when it did, frightful images haunted her dreams.

* * *

**i lost so much of this fricking document and had to rewrite it while it was fresh in the dome**


	3. Chapter 2

**Sorry I haven't been writing this, if you wanted to see more. I'm not the most inspired these days.**

**Late August-Early October**

* * *

The dogs were finding it impossible to breathe for the humidity that night. Yet tonight was the night when three appointments were due by Sterling. Kyra waited in her instructed spot for the assembly, examining her paws.

A flash of silver and Sterling was in the center of the crowd. "It has come to my attention that there's a soldier deserving a promotion in our ranks. Lilah, to me."

Kyra looked up to see a massive brindled-and-white bitch striding over. Her coat was sleek and glossy, with muscles rippling and flexing underneath. Lilah stopped in front of Sterling and dipped her head low.

Sterling's black eyes were empty as she spoke to the soldier. "In your most recent battle, you protected some healers from a black bear. It's not many dogs who are capable of fending off a bear with no assistance. And now that you've recovered, it is time to promote you to master."

Lilah shifted, and for the first time, Kyra noticed four claw-scars that must have been from the bear. A thrill ran down her spine and tingled in her paws.

The soldiers' masters came forward to stand just behind Lilah, ready to receive her. The pack leader went on: "With the approval of her guild, this pack acknowledges Lilah the soldier as a master of her trade. Now face your dogs, Lilah."

As soon as she did, the soldiers swarmed her in a barking, wiggling frenzy. Lilah was borne along through the pack's camp by a flood of dogs as muscular as she.

"Close your mouth, Kyra," croaked a retired dog. "Not a good look."

Kyra shook out her fur, embarrassed. Turning her eyes back to Lilah and the soldiers, she was struck with a wild longing for that kind of camaraderie. _All in good time, _she reminded herself. She and Brigitte were here to get officially recognized by the guilds tonight. They weren't just pups anymore!

"Brigitte," Sterling said.

Kyra felt Brigitte tremble. She scrambled into the open in front of Sterling, her tail thrashing. Several of the pack snorted.

"With your consent you have been placed with the healer guild, and Saffron will train you in their ways."

The yellow bitch whined and trotted forth, wiggling with glee. Brigitte wagged her tail, falling easily into place at her side. There seemed to be general approval, though Kyra caught a muttered accusation of Sterling's nepotism. As Brigitte and Saffron melted back into the crowd, Kyra waited.

"Kyra."

Oh God.

"With your consent"—_bullshit_—"you have been placed with the huntsdog guild." _I'm here because my father is the lieutenant. I have noble blood, too noble for the ruffians and flower sniffers. Isn't that right, Sterling? _"Drake will train you in their ways."

_WHO?!_

Again there were murmurs, this time of Kyra's great privilege. She whipped her head around, eyes bugging, as Drake emerged from the huntsdogs. His fur, sleek and wiry, was chestnut-and-white roan. Every feature of his face from jaw to nose seemed perfectly angular. His amber eyes seemed to cut all the dogs to their very bones.

There was no instant chemistry, as Brigitte had seemed to feel for Saffron. Kyra was deeply intimidated. Perhaps this was proper for a dog of Drake's status, just under Mulberry.

Drake bristled, growing impatient.

Kyra forced her legs into action and walked with him. The pack's tension eased, but not completely.

"That is all." Sterling turned away, leaving her dogs to mill about.

The huntsdogs congregated, with Kyra included for the first time. She looked at her new master. He certainly was an important dog. Everyone was in her ear about how lucky she was to have him!

The soldiers appreciated Lilah just as much—maybe even more. They were being rowdy, barking, and tail wagging. It all seemed so much more natural to Kyra, not at all like the affected niceties offered to Drake. She wanted very much to be near Rose as usual, but that would be a breach of etiquette considering her age and new status.

They were not with the party long. Drake brought Kyra to her new den, where a nest already waited for her. "You'll need to be well rested for your first sessions," he told her. "You'll be more active than ever. The first phase of any training is physical conditioning."

Kyra wagged her tail. "So you'll make me run laps?"

"And I'll make you swim."

She gaped at him. "I've never been in water like that."

"Close your mouth. You look like a coyote. Learning to swim will make you strong and swift." Drake turned away. "But tomorrow we will see all the hunting grounds."

In her nest, Kyra nosed her shoulder. The muscles felt soft. She knew they didn't ripple when she walked as the grown dogs' did. How much swimming could get one to look like Lilah? Though she suspected enormous muscles were not the "elegant" look desirable for a huntsdog.

Brigitte slept beside her. At least she had some comfort in the new environment. Sleep followed suit.

* * *

Training began with difficulty, but Kyra adjusted with the aid of Drake-enforced consistency. As she grew stronger, he adjusted her regimen. Hunting was often a slow process, with more time spent tracking than killing, but oh! how exhilarating it was to make her kills.

On a cooler day, as the trees were starting to flush orange, Kyra and Drake loped behind a marking party of soldiers.

One of the soldiers, a blue-merle dog, looked over his shoulder at them. "How many caches have you made in this trip now? I lost count."

"Impressive huntsdog you're turning out to be," Lilah added, to Kyra.

_OH. MY. GOD. _"It's Drake's good training," she said. _Stay humble._

"Don't I know it!" Drake lifted his muzzle, not humbly.

_Well, damn._

With nose still in the air, Drake tensed. "Canine blood."

"Just canine?" demanded Lilah. "Dog? Coyote?"

"It smells mixed," Drake growled. "Like a coydog. Or a fight between a dog and coyote."

"_Please_ let's go break it up, Lilah," one of the soldiers whined. "My claws are itching."

"We're here to mark," said Lilah. "If we have to go out of our way for this, it isn't worth it."

"Can't you tell it's near?" Drake's eyes were practically bugging. "We should go now! It won't take more than a few leaps."

"Even the huntsdogs are raring to go!"

"Then let's make this quick," grunted Lilah, bounding away. Her underlings followed, yapping their glee, and Drake stayed close to Kyra. Her mouth felt dry and she shook for fear of what they might find.

* * *

**This won't have a time jump. It will pick up where we left off.**


End file.
